


Strass & Blood

by Angelscythe



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Murder Husbands, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23527993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelscythe/pseuds/Angelscythe
Summary: Rude has been raised by the Shinra, without anyone around him. No love, no friends, just mission to achieve.One day, he is brought to a Stripclub and what was supposed to be a easy murder turn into something deeper when he encounters a beautiful Red Demon...
Relationships: Reno/Rude, Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Strass & Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya!!  
> This is a fanfiction I have written for the birthday of the amazing @Sumnnine (on twitter)! I love her so much!! And if you like Reno, you wouldn't be dissapointed to go on her twitter see all the amazing Reno she offers us all the time!!!
> 
> (Also sorry for my bad english and the grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language and I have dislexia.)

Watching his boss in the eyes, Rude pressed his cigarette in the ashtray.

“Do you think you could do it?” Rufus asked, smiling sweetly.

Too sweetly.

Rude grabbed his sunglasses, opening them as he got up. He slid them on his nose, turning swiftly and moving to the door.

He didn’t need to reply.

Of course he could do it.

Rude put on his sunglasses and left the room, letting the door close behind him.

He was working for the Turks since so long… He was just a child when they pick them up from the streets and gave him somewhere to live, and things to do. People to lure, people to beat, people to kill…

He never said ‘no’ against any of their mission. Sometimes, he would doubt about them but he would do it anymore.

He had nothing else.

How could he turn his back to people who raised him, gave him food and now, kept dealing with him? They gave him money, allowing him to buy food he would quickly eat without an ounce on envy or his cigarettes. The only think that could make a day look… shorter?

They always seemed so long.

When you were used to betray, steal, hurt, kill, you could believe it was enough but Rude was different… He was doing that because he had to. Because he owed it to them. And sometimes… it was just hanging there, in a corner of his head, weighing on him. Like a burden… People believed he had no emotions because his face was always closed; people believed he didn’t care because his voice was cold… They were wrong but it was better that way. No one had to know the turmoil or they might use it against him.

That was also the reason why he was so glad to have no one counting for him, no one counting on him.

He was unreachable.

Following his orders, Rude went to a place he wouldn’t expect to be sent after so many years of working for the Shinra. He knew the high instance of the organization were the kind to go on this place, for working in all discretion because, as strangely as it was, that was the place where you could have the more discretion… except at the HQ of Shinra itself, of course.

Rude didn’t care about entering in this place.

This one or another one, he didn’t care.

As he walked in, his eyes looking around through the purple flashing colors, the music was blasting in his ears. And the room was filled not only with important women and men, not only with gils bills, but also with beautiful girls and boys in alluring outfit. You could see them walking around the tables and padded benches, you could notice the glasses filled with alcohol, bouncing around.

Rude’s eyes were looking around behind his sunglasses, searching for his targets. But they stopped when they met a fire. Not a real fire but everything in the colors and the energy was a fire. The sparkles shining on the thin pale body, enthralling thighs closed around a long pole, ankles snaking around it upper while a hand with black and red nail was blowing a kiss across the room.

Rude was pretty sure the blow had been directed to him.

Just for him.

And he watched the blue eye winking, his eyes devouring the slight muscles, travelling from freckle to freckle, that looked like a constellation, a galaxy, thanks to the glimmer all around. He watched as the body raised, the hands coming around the pole and the thighs adorned with high thighs heeled boots unrolled around it, allowing the body to swirl around the stem. He couldn’t stop looking at him, seeing the little black silk underpants hugging the round bottom while the guy turned. Just before the long bright red hair would hide them. The guy swirled, his back loving the pole while he was coming down on his knees.

Rude gulped, watching the lacey corset with some transparent part, allowing more freckles to appear.

He approached the scenery where the guy was dancing in such an enthralling way.

He dug his hand in his pocket and grabbed one of the unique gils banknotes he had with him.

The dancer smiled and approached him. He came down slowly on his knees, his hands coming around his face but never touching him. He approached his lips from him without even brushing them.

Rude slid his fingers under the laced garter and slithered his money against his thighs.

“Thank you,” the guy said.

Rude looked him in the eye though he doubted the other could truly… look back at him? But he was devouring him, loving him with his eyes…

He didn’t hear the music, didn’t hear the sound around, not even the voices of his target. How could he when the universe was suddenly held in the eyes of a seductive boy? When he saw him get up, he was sad and would have taken more gils in his pocket to make him stay longer.

He watched him, looked his dance, looking him playing with that pole…

Hearing sounds again around, he glanced at them but then come back to him.

He had a work to do but what was preventing him from looking at him as he swirled around the pole, every movement of his legs, his arms… Sometimes, he looked like he was flying and that nothing was holding him against the stem anymore… He could have seen wings appear in his back…

More sound.

He turned his head, forcing himself away from the view, and watched as his target seemed ready to leave.

Damn!

It would be a bit more difficult. He was very good to melt in a crowd and slid poison in a glass or to pretend nothing happened while he was about to stab someone with a very thin dagger, so thin you couldn’t even see spots of blood after he would have pierced them, but if they left like that…

He was used to those clubs and he had seen so many ladies, so many men, dancing for money, dancing to make people smile or more. He himself had already some of them on his thighs so why… why his mind was still on this fire-like dancer? Why he wanted to ask for a special and lonely dance? Why he wanted to remove his gloves and touch him, lick his freckles… watch him in the eyes longer…

Rude shook his head, trying to find back his focus, and he moved toward the table.

The targets saw him.

He didn’t care.

For this time, he really didn’t care.

He hadn’t the time. And if _he_ killed, it wasn’t important. He was no one. Look up for Rude anywhere and you wouldn’t find him.

And if he died for what he did.

Eh…

Why not?

“What do you want, you?” a buff lady asked, walking toward him for him to step back.

He didn’t. He kept moving toward the man. He was finishing his glass. And now that Rude had approached, he stopped talking. He wasn’t idiot…

He could try having information here and there but he wasn’t there for that. Rufus could have the information from somewhere else. And he would certainly turn himself toward someone else for that. He was a cold strength. Nothing else…

He approached the man, ready to make his teeth jump out of his mouth.

And there…

Guns suddenly appeared, held toward him.

“Don’t approach.”

“Why?” he replied. “I’m just walking, isn’t it too dramatic?”

“I know who you are,” the buff lady said.

He was no one, no one could find him. But his face wasn’t unknown. He would lie if he said he wasn’t surprised. He really was surprised. He was… so mainstream. He was no one… How could a face like his could have been remembered.

“Now, you will die,” she said, her gun pressing against his forehead.

He smiled.

She was about to fire. And he wouldn’t hit a lady.

If the authorities put his target in prison for all of this, would he have done his mission? Did he really care for his mission once he would be dead?

The burden was there.

The burden simmering in his heart.

It was good if it vanished. He wanted to feel it vanish…

**_BANG!!_ **

There were screams, people running away, others staying on place as if they didn’t care.

Rude was still alive…

How was it possible?

He saw the smoke from the gun, felt something fell on his head and moved his fingers to take one of those things. It was debris from the cellar…

What the…

“That’s not nice to shoot on people. Now you leave the strip club.”

It was the fire-like dancer.

Rude stared at him.

The gun moved toward his lovely face adorning a smirk.

“Sorry, lady,” Rude said before throwing his fist in her jaw, throwing her on a table.

Glasses fell from the table, shattering in pieces, spilling alcohol all around. A new bang echoed. Rude was pushed away from the trajectory.

“I said, leave the strip club!” the dancer said, throwing his feet in a wrist.

His heel opened the flesh, making splash red. The dancer jumped on a table and his heel hit the throat of another one.

Rude stared at him.

A guy dashed toward him and he threw his fist in his face while still staring the red demon…

He smiled.

The dancer just jumped on the shoulder of one, throwing his heel in a face. You couldn’t see the blood of the leather boots but on the face, yes. As the target was falling under the combined weigh, Rude approached, throwing his fist in another guy. A lady turned her gun to him.

Damn!

The stripper jumped on her. The heels entered her skull with a horrible crack and if people weren’t already screaming and running away, now they did.

Those who stayed there were rare.

Even the strippers who knew their colleagues since so long were running away, going outside despite their tiny outfits.

“Oof. A bit of help?”

Rude grabbed the stripper, taking him in his arms as if he was a fairy tale Princess or someone he wanted to marry… and he truly wanted it, and swirled on himself, sending the lovely legs in two others guys.

He was redder now, blood staining his face, his legs and his arms; droplets creating a stranger constellation of strass, freckles and blood.

Jumping from his arms, the stripper slammed a kiss on Rude’s cheek and broke a wrist to snatch a gun.

**_BANG!_ **

“Thank you,” Rude said at his ear leaning at his ear.

He took the hand, warm and tiny and… very moist. Probably because of the blood…

“Thank you?”

“Now we have to leave!”

Rude ran away, tugging on the hand, forcing him to follow him. The strip club was in a poor state and bang were echoing after them. Rude glanced above his shoulder and he saw a gun pointed toward them.

Damn!

He swirled, taking the dancer in his arms, protecting him from the blow. His sunglasses jumped from his face, falling on the floor, shattering. The striper’s mouth was agape, watching the blood sliding along his high cheekbone.

He watched his eyes, the gleam in them, the love, the panic…

He never saw that.

He saw a lot of looks on him. Very often… And yet, he never saw that… This tenderness, this devotion…

“Are you okay?”

“Yes?” the guy replied.

He held out his revolver and shoot.

He pressed his hand around Rude’s and forced him to follow him, this time. It was cold outside but he didn’t seem to worry about that.

However, the man of the Shinra removed his vest and put it around the other’s shoulders. Which smiled to him.

“I’m Rude!”

“What? No! You’re fine! That’s so kind of you to give me your vest!”

“I meant… my name is Rude.”

“Ooooh! I’m… Reno. People just call me Reno,” he smiled.

“That’s a pretty name,” Reno said.

“Thank you! What had happened there?”

“I had to kill one of those men,” Rude replied. “I got disturbed by…”

Reno slid his fingers against the soaked of blood banknote, still against his thigh.

“Me?”

Rude nodded.

More than disturbed…

“But you handled this so well. Where have you learned to fight?”

“In the streets,” he replied.

“You grew in the streets?” Rude asked.

“Yes!”

“Me too.”

“Ah! We have so much in common,” Reno smiled.

He moved his finger to a building. “There!”

Rude followed him. They entered the building together and Reno made him climb the stairs. One after the other. They climbed to the fourth ground. Reno let go on his hand when they arrived there and went to his doormat, leaning to retrieve the key under.

Rude watched him.

“Come inside! I will heal this wound… and then take a shower. Because glimmer plus blood don’t match. You know it if you want to try!”

“I prefer to look the glimmer on your skin,” he said.

“It would suit you well.” Reno passed his hands on his chest and then on Rude’s cheek, smiling. “There!”

He took his hand, tugging him inside.

“Make yourself at home!” he said.

“You can take your shower first,” Rude offered to Reno.

He had a bit of blood in his neck and his clothes but the wound on his cheek wasn’t annoying.

“You sure?” the striper asked, walking toward a huge cage.

He smiled at it and then turned toward Rude.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Alright. I’m hurrying up!”

Reno stepped to his bathroom. Rude watched the stains of blood spreading in the living room then approached the cage, wondering what it could be there. He looked were the beautiful red demon just did a bit before and noticed…

A tiny hamster.

He smiled.

The young man was so gorgeous, enthralling, demoniac? He didn’t imagine him with a hamster but… on the other hand, he knew him since only a few minutes.

He looked around and noticed that the flat was in a very sad shape…

He waited, standing there, in the middle of the room, next to the hamster cage.

Until the door of the bathroom opened again on the red demon, his long hair tied in a low ponytail but still dripping, wearing kitty socks, a short and something grey under a half-closed vest.

Rude watched him and he put a knee in the floor.

“Are you okay?” Reno worried, dashing toward him. “You have been hurt somewhere else?”

The man took his hand, the other moving to the wound at his cheek.

“Would you…”

Rude mentally hit himself very hard. You didn’t ask to someone you just met if he wanted to marry you. He wouldn’t kiss him to wake him up from an endless slumber; he wouldn’t kiss him to make the poison of an apple disappear; he wouldn’t put a glass shoe at his foot…

“…become a member of my organization? You could kick some asses and you really look like it’s a second nature for you. And this would allow you to change your work?”

“I like my work. I do that because I enjoy it. And I can meet pretty boy!” he said, pressing his finger on Rude’s nose.

He stepped away to retrieve his hand before going to his kit aid.

“Go sit in the sofa,” he commanded.

Rude just complied to his demand.

The couch was quite uncomfortable.

“Or you could be in a better place. I just suppose your qualities could serve my enterprise.”

“An enterprise that kill people? That’s quite interesting,” Reno said.

He pressed a bit of cotton, he had soaked with alcohol, against Rude’s wound.

“I would be glad to see you again.”

“You can see me again as soon as you want. And pay for it,” he winked. Reno sat on his thighs as he grabbed a band aid. “But I’m not sure they will accept me again… I could go somewhere else but… perhaps I can accept your proposition? Only if…”

“If?”

“If you promise me I will hit guys with you! It was fun.”

“It was fun,” Rude approved. “I would like to become your partner.”

Reno smiled, putting the band. “I saw how you watched me and I noticed your not-exactly-wedding-propose dear! You will have to elaborate on this!”

“Why wouldn’t you pick?”

Reno smiled.

“Partner in crime for now. But who knows.”

He winked to him, smiling. And, really, Rude felt like it was paradise…


End file.
